


Dancetale Soriel

by SkelePlatypus (AgentBengalTiger)



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Dancetale, F/M, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Soriel Week, Soriel Week 2018, dance, mostly comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-28 00:54:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15696846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentBengalTiger/pseuds/SkelePlatypus
Summary: Soriel Week. Day 4: Dance.I actually wrote this in February, but it’s been sitting in my google docs for almost 6 months because I was gonna add some more to it. It’s actually not dependent on the other scene I wanted to add and stands pretty solidly on its own, so I decided to take this opportunity to post it at last since today’s Soriel Week theme is “Dance”, and that, coincidentally, is exactly what this is about.I’d also like to thank antarestyl for giving me this idea. Dunno if you remember, since this conversation happened 6 months ago.





	Dancetale Soriel

Based on Dancetale, which was created by teandstars and sterrenschijnselsterrenschijnsel

This work can also be found on [Fanfiction.net](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13036480/1/Dancetale-Soriel), [Deviantart](http://fav.me/dck8zj2), and [Tumblr](https://skeleplatypus.tumblr.com/post/177039337311/dancetale-soriel).

 

 

 

Everyone always said Toriel and Asgore were made for each other. They were both boss monsters and shared the same dance style. Waltz. Filling in for each other's weaknesses in both dancing and ruling the Kingdom, they made a fantastic team. That wasn't even mentioning how sickeningly affectionate they were, even in public. Toriel and Asgore always seemed to be in perfect sync. Until they weren't.

In the ruins, no one else could waltz with Toriel. Her size and former status were already intimidating enough, and the long, graceful steps of her dancing didn't help. All of the residents either couldn't keep up or were afraid of being squashed by her large feet. Making friends in her new old home seemed nearly impossible. She felt so completely isolated.

When the humans fell, they would dance with her, and she'd feel alive again, but they always left. And then she was alone again. It almost hurt more, getting a small taste of interaction only to have it snatched away almost immediately. Even so, it kept her going, kept her flame burning just a little.

The last human had come through so long ago, though, and Toriel was feeling smothered in loneliness. No matter how brightly the fire in her hearth burned, she could still feel the darkness closing in on her soul. She was on the brink of giving up, already doing her chores with glassy eyes, just going through the motions. At night, she would lie in bed and stare at the ceiling in her bedroom until it was time once again to get up.

As a boss monster with no child, she was destined to live forever. She would never "fall down" like a normal monster, but her soul was at its last dying embers that day. She was ready to lie down and never get up again. That was when she heard the knocking.

She wasn't sure what had brought her feet down here into the basement. She certainly hadn't come here consciously, but here she was, and someone was knocking on the door at the far end of the last corridor. She opened the first set of doors and stepped in.

The knocking came again. Just two soft knocks. If her ears hadn't been quite as sensitive, she would never have heard it from behind the first set of doors. Slowly, cautiously she approached.

The soft knocking came again, and this time she could hear an even softer voice saying, "knock knock."

"Who is there?" She asked.

There was a short pause before the voice replied: "dishes"

Oh! They were telling a joke! Toriel had always loved wordplay and simple jokes. Other monsters usually thought they were juvenile and outdated.

"dishes a very bad joke," the voice finished.

Toriel's breath caught in her throat for moment before she began guffawing in a most undignified manner. The dying ember in her soul suddenly flickered back into a tiny flame.

She came back the next day for more jokes, and the next, and the next. She even began to share her own jokes. With each day, her soul would feel the strength to last a bit longer, but whenever she wasn't by the door, all the weariness and despair would return and begin wearing her down again. There was still something missing.

"My friend," She began when she came out of a fit of giggles. "I would like to ask... would you like to dance with me? I cannot open the door, but perhaps we could dance on either side..."

She trailed off, expecting him to eagerly agree. Dancing was so important to monster culture, and usually two monsters would even perform a short dance as greeting when meeting someone new. She felt that they were beyond just acquaintances, even if they still did not know each other's names, but could she really consider him a friend if they had never even danced? Of course, they wouldn't be able to see each other or interact physically, but the music from their souls would be enough.

He wasn't saying anything. Maybe he didn't actually want to be friends? Perhaps he was just humoring her? She began to panic.

"Of course, if you do not wish to--"

"n-no," he interrupted quickly. "it's not that i don't want to. sorry, that was rude of me. i just... i don't dance."

Her panic turned to confusion. "You do not dance? at all?" That was unheard of.

"sometimes. with my brother. it doesn't ever seem to work with anyone else anymore, so... i've just kinda... stopped."

"Oh."

"I can not say that I understand completely, but I am not without sympathy. It has been a very very long time since I have danced with anyone else as well. All the monsters in the Ruins are scared of me."

"scared of you? but you're so sweet and funny-- i mean, uh, y'know..."

Toriel blushed lightly, but smiled. She was a little too flustered to address the compliment, and it seemed he felt the same, so she had some mercy on both of them and changed the subject.

"If... you do not mind, could I dance for you?"

"o-of course! that... that would mean a lot to me, thank you."

"Honestly, it means a lot to me as well. More than you could know." Her body almost ached with the need to dance with someone, even if that someone were sitting on the other side of a closed door.

She stood and closed her eyes, lifting her arms to hold an imaginary partner, and began to dance.

The slow, three part rhythm soothed her each downbeat, healing her crumbling soul one crack at a time. The waltz started out sad, but as she felt better it began sounding more hopeful.

There wasn't as much room to maneuver as a ballroom, but she modified her steps to reuse the space there was. The magic of her soul began to fill the room, even reaching beyond the door where she could sense the other monster's soul.

She began channeling her feelings of gratitude and relief into her dancing, hoping that the message would still get through, even though he couldn't see her. The music was moving a bit faster now and it sounded happy and she hadn't felt this way for so long...

And then something about the music changed. She couldn't quite pinpoint what it was, but she found herself moving with her entire body in stronger, looser motions than her usual style. She wondered where it was coming from until she caught the faint sound of vocalization following her melody from the other side of the door.

It was him. He wasn't singing any words, just quietly humming to himself, and she figured the change had been from his magic responding to hers, tweaking her own song to match his own dancing style, although it didn't seem like something she recognized at all.

She danced for a few more minutes before she felt the need to take a break and catch her breath. It had been a bit longer than most first dances were, but he was a friend, and she felt she hadn't been too presumptuous.

She sat down with a breathless laugh, leaning her back against the door. “I feel _much_ better now!”

He laughed in response. “so do i. your voice sounds a lot happier.”

“And your voice is quite lovely as well!”

“y-you heard that?” he sounded a mixture of embarrassed and amused.

“I have very good ears.”

“oh.”

She smiled to herself. “Thank you for indulging a silly old lady.”

“you’re not silly! i mean, you are, just in all the right ways.”

Toriel laughed again. “Either way, I appreciate the chance to share my magic again. It has been far too long. I feel as if a great weight has finally been lifted from my soul.”

“anytime, lady,” the monster said.

 

* * *

Sans didn’t dance. He used to dance. He used to dance a lot. And sometimes it was painful, not having that emotional connection with the world around him like every other monster, like he himself use to. But dancing was even more painful. He would almost always start to have flashbacks to times when he’d used his magic and his music for less _creative_ purposes and more _destructive_ ones. Times that had never happened. Times he didn’t remember. Times he didn’t _want_ to remember.

So he stopped dancing.

Sometimes he could still dance with Papyrus. He had been dancing with Papyrus for so long, and he was so familiar with his style, that it was the only dancing he could stand. Even then, he always veered toward Papyrus’ style and avoided using his own, and he only ever agreed to it if Papyrus initiated it and they were completely alone.

Sans found other ways to keep his spirits up. None of them were as effective as dancing, but he got by. He’d always been fond of bad jokes, so he would practice them outside the big door in the woods he’d found.

One day while he was doing a knock knock joke routine, he met someone.

“knock knock,” he said as he rapped his knuckles on the door behind him.

“Who is there?” answered a woman’s voice.

Sans almost fell over in shock. He hadn’t known anyone lived in the Ruins of Home. The door had been sealed for longer than he’d been alive.

He finally gathered his wits enough to continue his joke. “dishes.”

“Dishes who?”

“dishes a very bad joke.”

There was no response for a moment, and he thought he might have scared her off, but suddenly

“BWAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA _snort_ HAHAHAHAheeheehee!”

Something in his soul grew lighter at the sound. The woman’s wild untamed laughter was the most sincere positive response he’d gotten to a joke since... well, probably _ever_. He took a moment to join her; the peals of her hysteria were contagious.

As they both came out of the fit, he took the opportunity to knock out another one. He spent the rest of his shift telling this strange woman the worst jokes he could come up with and she loved them all. When he said, reluctantly, that it was time for him to go, and she requested that he come back tomorrow, he eagerly agreed.

He was in a good mood, even when Papyrus scolded him for abandoning his post. He seemed to notice Sans’ change in demeanor and commented on it as they walked home.

“YOU SEEM TO BE IN HIGH SPIRITS.”

“that ain’t no _fibula_ ,” he joked.

Then Papyrus scolded him again for the bad joke.

 

* * *

She had asked him to dance, and he _so_ wanted to, but even thinking about it was sending him into a panic. He was flattered that she wanted to dance with him, even though with how often they’d been spending time together, they really should have danced by now in other circumstances that didn’t involve mysterious unopened doors in the middle of the woods. He felt guilty that he couldn’t dance with her and unsure how to explain...

Fortunately, she didn’t pry and accepted his regretful decline gracefully without taking offense. She did offer to dance for him, though. He wouldn’t be able to see her, but he would be able to hear her soul’s song.

Classical music wasn’t usually Sans’ thing. He didn’t dislike it, but he didn’t tend to seek it out. This was different though. He sighed and leaned against the door with his sockets closed, just soaking it up. The music seemed melancholy at first, and the emotions matched his own so well that he wondered if this lady were a psychic.

As the music grew brighter, he could feel it lifting his soul along with it. He felt more alive than he had for a long time. All the pressure and tension wound through his magic was beginning to dissipate, bringing him close to tears. Finally, something clicked he caught the music and began to make it his own.

It started as a little beatboxing, very softly and nothing loud enough to overwhelm the melody, just enough to nudge it into a more familiar pattern. Then he put in a drop and began humming along in harmony. He tapped his foot along. He could feel movement in his soul and visualize the choreography that would go along nicely with the music.There were some new moves he wanted to try out, but just before he worked up the determination to stand up and _dance,_ the song finally ended.

He was breathless, but buzzing with more energy than he could remember having for a long time. The lady sounded a bit winded too, but equally as exhilarated when she sat down by the door again.

“I feel _much_ better now!”

“so do i,” he responded, laughing. “your voice sounds a lot happier.”

“And your voice is quite lovely as well,” the lady said teasingly.

Sans felt his face warm up “y-you heard that?”

“I have very good ears.”

“oh.” He would have to remember not to mutter anything to himself.

Despite his embarrassment, he was secretly pleased that she’d enjoyed his input.


End file.
